


Oh Baby Girl, Don't Get Cut On My Edges

by lemonhopia



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Angst, Chan is a carnapper, F/M, Fluff, Jisung and minho are into identity theft and forging documents and selling stolen stuff, M rating is only for mature themes and cursing, OC drugs and scams men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-30 03:31:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19033900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonhopia/pseuds/lemonhopia
Summary: Both of you lead dangerous lives, too risky and unpredictable for your own good. All you know is wherever Chan takes you, high or low, that's where you want to go.





	Oh Baby Girl, Don't Get Cut On My Edges

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting anything skz, I hope I did our Channie justice 🤞
> 
> Title from Young God - Halsey

Typical Friday night. Flashing lights in a dim room, drink in hand, waiting for another man dumb and horny enough to fall in your trap. Well, a lot of them are so it shouldn’t normally be this hard, it’s just a matter of who gets to you first. Tonight is particularly slow though, as you’ve been sitting by the bar for what seems like hours, crossing and uncrossing your legs and swirling the same drink in your hand for the past thirty minutes.

“That’s her, that bitch, that’s really her,” You hear a man’s voice cut through the noise but you don’t pay full attention. Still, a burning feeling in your chest makes you want to look in the direction of the voice. Just a little. You glance to your side just a little, letting your eyes do the searching instead of craning your neck.

The familiar figure of a man in his mid-30s and who you assume is his friend came into view. The neon lights in the bar may have distorted his features the slightest bit, but the image is burned in the back of your brain.

Shit. He’s here, and he definitely recognized you.

You don’t usually remember your clients- or victims, more like it, but this one put up one hell of a fight before you managed to sedate him. The memory of running out of that grimy old motel while hiding the nasty bruise blooming on your cheek and the trembling of your hands while hiding the used syringe and the torn strap of your dress in your jacket made you sick. 

Carefully, you slide off your seat and calmly head to the exit, hiding behind the large group of college-looking guys also leaving the bar.

You curse yourself for wearing heels, but it’s not like you really had a choice. This was your normal “work” outfit. Well, at least they’re wedges and not the sky-high stilettos you can stab a man with.

The cold air hit your face as soon as you stepped out of the heavy swinging doors and you immediately run towards the direction of the crowd, knowing that hiding in secluded alleyways could get you into more trouble. You had no time to look back. The sound of the dreaded footsteps is too close now.

“You bitch!” The only things you can hear are the sound of your own heartbeat and the angry panting and cursing behind you. 

That, and the cocking of a gun.

Good thing you know the city streets like the back of your hand. You weave your way expertly through crowds so they won’t be able to make a scene or fire any shots. A few more streets ahead and you don’t hear them anymore. 

You didn’t notice where you were heading because you were just running to where the crowds are until you find yourself in a familiar side street and you sigh in relief. You can call Chris later, at least now you can hide in Jisung’s apartment until you can.

Jisung didn’t look the least bit surprised that you’re knocking furiously at his door late at night, wedges in hand and sweating like hell even in the cool spring air. He’s used to it since his apartment building is hidden away in an obscure side street and his unit being high up on the 5th floor making it the perfect hiding place during wild chases like this. This is Chris' hideout too, and he’s actually the one who told you to crash here whenever you don’t feel safe at your own place.

“Ugh, my feet are killing me,” You throw yourself on the couch the moment Jisung opened the door while you ruffle his newly-dyed reddish hair on the way in.

"By the way, you were running up here, it doesn't seem like your feet were the only ones killing you,"

You needed time to breathe before you could answer. “Noona, what is it this time?” Jisung called from the kitchen while he worked fast to make you tea.

“Remember that motherfucker who punched my face when I refused to suck his dick the moment he closed the door? There,” You gesture to the direction of the window overlooking the streets. “Son of a bitch has a gun,”

“Oh shit,” His tone is an interesting mix of scared and amused. 

“Yeah, I know, _ shit _ ,” You sigh, sipping from the orange cat printed mug Jisung handed you. Must be Minho’s. He leaves his stuff here so much that he might as well just move in.

As much as you didn’t want Chris to worry, you need to let him know you won’t make it home alone so you text him. Halfway through your cup of tea, you end up dozing off on the couch, hoping it would be Chris you’ll see when you wake up.

 

"Hey, we're already here," You awake to a gentle shake to your shoulders, adjusting your eyes to the lights suddenly bright and burning. It took a few seconds to realize you’re in a car and not Jisung’s living room anymore. Poor kid must have stayed awake to watch you until Chris picked you up. 

You make a mental note to buy him his favorite cheesecake before he runs off with Minho somewhere far enough from the city. After all, that fucker who almost shot you had a fat wad of cash on him.

Chris' smile greeted you the moment you properly opened your eyes. If only this is what you're gonna be waking up to every day, you won't be dragging your ass out of bed just to start your day. You'd be opening the curtains to let the warm rays in, making yourself a steaming cup of coffee, and going for a morning jog. 

But Chris isn't yours to wake up next to. He isn't yours at all. 

You just have to content yourself with your daydreams and the dark blinds blocking out the light in your room, cursing the cold side of the bed before you even open your eyes, and dragging your feet to the kitchen for some aspirin for your splitting hangover and instant coffee with hardly hot enough water from the thermos. 

You're thankful for long drives such as this where he lets you get some shuteye in the passenger seat whenever he's confident that he's awake enough to drive without you keeping him from dozing off. Then you can open your eyes to his bright smile from the driver's seat, firm hands shaking you awake. 

"But I don't wanna go back to Itaewon," You sigh deeply as you try to undo your seatbelt, and the familiar facade of your old and run-down apartment came into view. "I thought we were finally running away and changing our names,"

Fucking seatbelt is stuck. Chris reaches over to unlock the damn thing with just one hand. Another proof of how useless you are. 

What use even is this seatbelt? For all you care, you're fine with not surviving if you ever get into a car crash, as long as Chris gets to live on. Still, Chris insists you wear it. 

"Hmm, tough luck, this is our home," He chuckles as he steps off the driver's seat and waits for you to get out before locking the car, fumbling with the strange buttons on the electronic key. Knowing him, it must be a new one again. Wonder where he got it this time? 

Home. The word has been swimming around in your head since it left Chris' lips earlier. Where is home anyway? Certainly not with the "family" you left behind in Incheon, who only saw you as a troublemaker and a useless high school dropout. No thanks.

If this is what home meant now, then you're fine with it somehow. You're not sure if it's right to call a person home. If they leave then you have nowhere to go. But that's how Chris feels like, his presence now a constant reminder that you're alive, the anchor that's been keeping you from drifting into the void for the past year.

Nothing may be permanent in this town and no one really calls it their home, but at least you have Chris by your side. 

When you reach your shared unit upstairs, you're relieved to find it empty, not occupied by either a nosy Minho constantly insisting that you and Chris should just hook up or a perpetually lively Jisung always working on something on his computer in the living room. Finally, some peace and quiet, some semblance of normalcy in this mess that you call your life. You love Chris' friends too, of course, they're like brothers to him and eventually, you learned to feel the same, but tonight- well, this morning, has taken a toll on you more than any other. 

"I got that extra spicy one you like," Chris proudly held up the chicken takeout box you didn't notice he bought on the way home like you weren’t running away from an armed man. Oh boy. His smile under the warm kitchen lights is enough to take away all the shit running through your head. 

You throw your heels by the doorway, not bothering to put them back in their place in the shoe rack, and follow Chris into the kitchen. You’re totally spent, and even though your body is calling for a long, long sleep, you don’t want the night to end just yet.

At first glance, he really doesn't look like he steals cars for a living. He has tender eyes that look at you like you’re the only person in the room, and an endearing smile that shows off the dimples carved deep in his cheeks. They make his usually pale and tired face look brighter in an instant, more than any light can. 

He pushes some chopsticks and a can of beer to your direction.

"Thanks," You dug in right away. This is how dinner usually looks like for you two: sharing takeout trays or boxes at way past midnight, not bothering to get your own bowls or plates. And it mostly ends up with Chris eating more than half of it because he always buys too much. Or maybe he just eats a lot, you're not quite sure.

These quiet nights are your favorite part of the day. Most nights you end up talking until almost sunrise, and you forget you drug and scam rich and dirty men for money even just for a few hours. You almost feel like yourself again, and you're sure he does too. 

“You almost got shot again,” His voice is incredibly calm but laced with concern. “You know that bastard’s loaded and could have you taken out so easily, right? Some guys were lurking around Jisung’s apartment last night and I’m pretty sure they know you went there,”

You groan as you take another swig of beer, feeling the cold bitter liquid drag down your throat. He can really sound like such a mom at times but you know it's just because he wants you out of harm's way. 

“I know, I know, I’ll be more careful this time, okay?”

"I got your ID ready, just in case,” Your ears perk up at the mention of fake IDs but something isn’t quite right.

“Wait,  _ my _ ID? How about yours? Aren’t you wanted too?”

“Exactly, which is why I can’t have you with me, I don’t wanna drag you into my mess,”

“Chris please, my life has always been a mess,” You run your fingers through your hair in exasperation. Ever since he took you in, bloodied and bruised in a dark alleyway that night, you swore you won’t ever leave his side. “What difference would it make now?”

A slam of his fist at the table makes you jump even though it wasn’t even strong enough to cause more than a slight shake to the contents of the tabletop. Chris seems to be at a loss for words. He looks sharply into your eyes and drags the chair across the chipped floorboards to sit next to you.

“Everything, ok, everything,” He takes a deep breath, composing himself like he’s trying so hard not to lash out and break down in front of you. “Baby girl, look, please listen to me, Jisung will take you way out of town tomorrow and Minho and I will-”

The more he says  _ ‘listen to me’ _ , the more you become even more stubborn and curious, and he knows that very well.

“I’m not going without you,” Tears are starting to well up in your eyes. Damn it. You’re supposed to change his mind, not be a crying mess.

“ _ Fuck _ , I know you were gonna be like this,” Chris muttered more to himself than to you, leaning back in his chair in frustration with his tightly shut.

“Like what, Chris? Am I a burden to you? That I’m just gonna slow you down, is that it?” Now you’re really fuming.

"I need to take care of things first, tie up some loose ends, please, I just need to make sure we won’t leave a trace,”

His eyes are locked on you now, firm hands gripping your shoulder. You’re not having another minute of this conversation. The fact that Chris is making you run away without him doesn’t sit well with you. It’s like he planned this all along, and fuck, you don’t even want to think about what he could mean. 

"Can you promise me you'll be back?" Your voice is weak and cracking. 

The only response you get from Chris is a deep, ragged sigh, eyes looking down and his hands releasing their grip from your shoulders. That's enough of an answer you need. 

You run to your bedroom and slam the door, burying yourself in the sheets. You hated how you survived your entire life without Chris, but now the thought of losing him is too crippling for you to even consider. All because it wasn’t impossible. It was a suffocating truth looming over both of you. The main difference is you refuse to accept it, and he does. He was always in danger, you have always known that, and as long as you were around him you were in an even deeper hole than the one you already created for yourself.

 

You awake from a dreamless sleep to a hand brushing the hair away from your face and tucking the covers tighter around you. There was no need to guess. You know those hands like your own, their warmth and strength and the willingness to always hold you up. 

Chris pulled his hand back abruptly when you stirred in your sleep and stood up from the bed when you opened your eyes. 

“Where are you going?” He stopped in his tracks. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have woken you up,”

“Stay here,” You’re not sure if he heard. Your voice was barely above a whisper, like the air around you was fragile glass, but your plea is loud and clear. “Please?”

Wordlessly, Chris lays down on the space you always leave empty for him on the bed. It dips with his weight, a welcome change to the cold emptiness you’re used to night after night.

“I’m sorry again, I really should have let you know earlier,” He turns to face you. “And I shouldn’t be making decisions about you on my own,”

“You keep saying it’s for my own good, but what good is it if you’re not with me?”

No response.

“Chris, please, you keep avoiding it, I just need to know why, why can’t you take me?” You didn’t realize you started crying again. 

“It’s not that easy, I don’t want to lose you, you don’t understand-” 

“Then make me understand! If you’re leaving me then just-” You didn’t get to finish what you were saying. Your lips were sealed shut by Chris', pressed firmly to your own, tentative and unmoving until your hands pulled him closer like they were made to do just that. Thousands of fireworks ignite in your heart but a thousand more questions come up. Fuck all of that. All you want to focus on is how warm and soft Chris' lips are, how it’s exactly like you dreamed it to be, how your lips and tongues move so perfectly in sync, and how the curves and lines of your bodies fit like lost puzzle pieces finally founding each other after drifting aimlessly at sea.

“Was that clear enough?” He rests his forehead on yours, his gaze not leaving your eyes. “I love you, and I don’t wanna hurt you,”

“I’m so scared to lose you either, you know that,” You feel so vulnerable and exposed finally letting the words out in the open like that, but you’re relieved somehow. 

“I know, baby girl, I know,” His lips ghost over yours for a few seconds, before closing the distance between you once more with a much gentler kiss.

A deafening silence washed over the room. Chris let you bury your face in his chest, arms wrapped around you in reassurance. You’ve never felt so safe and untouchable. At that moment, you swore to never let any other lips touch you again. 

Not everything can be put into words and both of you have already said more than enough. Your bodies can do the talking while the two of you drift off to sleep, hoping the sunrise will bring better days ahead. 

 

Opening your eyes fully wasn’t needed to know you forgot to close the curtains before you went to sleep. The harsh rays burned one side of your body, and you attempt to cover yourself with the sheets but it's no use. And then it dawned on you.

Was last night a dream? You turn to your side only to find the bed empty, but the lingering scent, familiar and intoxicating, feels incredibly real.

You can't sleep away how you feel, your heart still racing at the thought of Chris' lips on yours and having his arms around you as you fell asleep. You hoped the longing would go away when you wake up but it’s only getting stronger, eating away at you the longer you kept your eyes open. For the longest time, you’ve felt nothing at the countless pairs of hands and lips and God knows what else roaming your body greedily like a you’re worthless object until you get the momentum to strike. Only Chris has broken down your walls like you swore you won’t let anyone do. And you’d gladly let him, over and over. Only him.

Where is he, anyway? Your eyes scanned around the room and found it a little cleaner than what you’re used to, the stuff you use the most not being in their respective shelves. It was very noticeable since you don’t really keep much. At the foot of the bed are a packed duffle bag and a backpack.

Your heart sank at the thought of being left alone. 

You hurried outside the room and was greeted by a smiling Jisung on the couch, talking in hushed tones to Minho on the phone. No Chris.

“Oh, you’re awake, go get ready then,”

“Wait, is it… Is it just us?” You froze by the doorway of your room, not sure if you’re ready to hear the answer.

“Woah, Noona, chill,” With a proud grin, Jisung throws you a passport with a fake name, and holds up another. “Fool-proof as fuck, even got me through immigration a couple of times,”

“Fuck, you guys scared me, thanks,” You let out the breath you’ve been holding when you see Chris' photo on the one in Jisung's hand.  _ Chan.  _ Of course he’s changing his name as well. 

“You just gotta trust Chris-hyung, ok? He won’t let anyone lay their hands on you, he loves you like-” Jisung’s eyes widen in panic when he realizes he’s blurting out something Chris must have told only him in private. “Oh shit,  _ shit _ , I wasn’t supposed to say that oh my god he’s totally going to-”

You laugh out loud and he stops. The lovesick grin on your face must have been a dead giveaway. “It’s okay Ji, I know,”

"Ah, finally, I thought he was gonna take his feelings to his grave,” He added with a laugh. “Are you still surprised though? We thought he was being so obvious," 

Before you could answer, Chris opened the door, a relieved smile washing across his face. He went straight to where you were standing next to the couch and placed a lingering kiss on your lips, not caring that Jisung is right in front of you and Minho is standing by the doorway, chuckling suggestively. 

"Let's go?" He whispers, nose touching yours.

You have never been more ready. 

 

After you take a quick shower, you throw on a hoodie and jeans from the little pile of clothes you have left in your closet that Chris didn't pack. Jisung and Minho already went ahead under Chris' instructions that you should split up. The sun is high up in the sky, making you squint as you take a look at the apartment you called home for the past year one last time. 

There's no turning back at this point. 

"For someone who's always running away, you sure are getting sentimental," You can tell Chris is taking one last look at the apartment as well, like he's etching the entire building into his memory, chipped paint and creaky floorboards and all. 

"Well, I found you here, so I'm still gonna miss it the tiniest bit," He turns to look at you. 

"I'm here now," You drape your arms around his neck. "I'm not going anywhere, at least not without you," He kisses you one more time, smiling against your lips, before turning his back to throw your bags into the backseat. You notice the car is a new one again, an unassuming compact one in gunmetal gray. 

The ride started in comfortable silence. You watched the familiar streets pass by, saying goodbye to them in your head one by one. 

"Someone's following us," He briefly glanced at the rearview mirror. “That white car,” 

The car looks familiar. How come you didn’t notice it before? You watched as it followed you on every turn, that same car you got into and managed to get out of alive last week. That bastard must have been watching you since last night. You know exactly who it is. 

“Fuck, it’s him,” 

“Yeah, I know,” Chris spoke calmly like you weren’t being chased out of town. He reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You have always admired that about him, his ability to keep his cool no matter what you throw at him, even if he’s nervous judging by the way his fingers tapped impatiently on the steering wheel. “You like extreme rides, right?” 

Chris picks up speed almost at the limit as he nears the intersection, swerving lanes and overtaking mercilessly, leaving the white car trailing further behind you and several other cars. The moment you pass the intersection, the traffic light turned red, and the white car is now stuck in traffic. 

It’s not yet time be complacent though. Chris keeps his speed even now that you’re on the freeway, speeding past exit after exit even if the other car is nowhere in sight. With every exit you pass, you feel closer and closer to freedom. But with Chris holding your hand, you’re free whether or not you make it to the next exit.

“We lost him,” You say excitedly, beaming from the adrenaline rush. 

“You won’t lose me though,” Chris returns your smile and you both break out laughing at how cheesy he is. 

“I better not, you have to take me much farther than Gwangju you know,”

“Anywhere you want to, baby girl,” His fingers find yours, intertwining them.

The drive turned calmer as the sun went down. He looks ridiculously dreamy like this, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow on his pale skin and soft dark curls. He’s all yours and it feels surreal.

Can you really do this? Running away and starting over? The whole idea is daunting but there’s no way you’re regretting this. Your future may be uncertain but whatever this is you’re diving into is only the beginning.

You lean back into the passenger seat, adjust your seatbelt and close your eyes, knowing wherever Chris takes you is the only place you want to go.

**Author's Note:**

> [CC](https://curiouscat.me/lemonhopia)   
>  [Twitter](https://twitter.com/lemonhopia)


End file.
